Erased vows

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The plane hit the Athens runway, and my gut twisted like I had swallowed a rock. Greece was supposed to be a mini vacation, a way to dodge the mess of my life.

Instead, it felt like walking into a fight, every look at Liam reminding me of the secrets burning inside me. Our hidden marriage, the crash that stole his memory, the truth Natty and I were digging up bit by bit.

I couldn’t relax.

Liam slammed his laptop shut next to me, breathing hard as the cabin lights buzzed. Even after nine hours in the air, he looked too good, clean white shirt, sleeves rolled up to show strong arms, jaw tight like he was chewing on a thought.

Everyone else saw a guy who could own a room. But I saw the real stuff: his left hand shaking when he grabbed his water, the shadows in his warm eyes when things got too quiet, like he was hiding cracks nobody noticed.

“Team meeting this afternoon,” he said, voice smooth but tired. “Dinner with the investors tonight. You got the plan?”

“Every bit,” I said, handing him the thin binder I’d put together. He flipped it open, eyes skimming, then gave me a quick nod. That nod used to be a grin, a kiss, words whispered in the dark. Now it was just a nod, and it still hurt like hell.

‘This will be a long trip,’ I told myself

---

The drive to the hotel was all cold and quiet.

The sea sparkled outside the window, bright like it was hiding something. The air smelled of lemons and ocean, sharp enough to wake me up.

I wanted to soak it in, forget everything, but Liam was right there, scrolling his phone, his face hard against the light like someone I didn’t know anymore.

His face brightens at his phone notification. I felt hurt.

I wasn't the reason for that smile.

Clarisse now owns that privilege.

The hotel sat high on a cliff, with white glass walls with marble designs. The light from the building screamed luxury.

The staff rushed us, smiling big. “Mr. Grey, welcome,” they said, nodding like he was a big deal. I stayed a step back, his shadow in a neat jacket, trying not to care that I was invisible to them and to him.

The nine-hour flight was full of silence. Aside from Liam politely turning down the air hostess who wouldn't take no for an answer, he barely spoke.

Our rooms were next to each other, with balconies facing the endless blue sea. I stepped onto mine, wind messing up my hair, the ocean stretching out like a dream I couldn’t believe in.

For a second, I let it pull me in just until Aunt Natty’s voice echoed in my head ‘No meds in his file, Elsie. Three weeks out cold, and nothing. That’s not a mix-up. That’s bad news.’

I went back inside, changed into a clean shirt and pants. Professional. Put-together. Not the girl who married Liam in a crazy, heart-racing moment.

---

It was past 8pm when I arrived at the conference room on the ninth floor, dressed in a casual evening dress and sandals. My brown hair in a high ponytail and made sure to keep my makeup casual and neat.

The meeting room was all light, with glass walls showing off the sea’s restless shine. The Greek team welcomed us with big handshakes and heavy accents, their energy pulling us in.

Liam took over the second he opened his mouth, his voice calm, questions sharp, presence like a fire everyone wanted to get close to. Watching him was like seeing someone dance without knowing the moves, every step natural, every word a spark.

He controlled the room.

My Liam.

I sat next to him, scribbling notes, passing him papers like I was keeping his fire going. But when his sleeve brushed my arm, it hit me like a shock, electric and sharp. His eyes caught mine, staying too long, and I swear something moved in them before he looked away.

I gave my input when necessary and soon the meeting was coming to a close.

The property tour took us through half-built rooms, marble stairs covered in scaffolding, terraces that dropped toward the sea like they were reaching for it. The manager pointed out fancy pools, glass walls that ate up the view, and rooftop gardens full of life. Liam took it all in, quiet but focused, until we hit a big balcony and he stopped dead.

His eyes scanned the sea, narrowing like he was chasing a memory. “This feels… familiar,” he said, voice low, almost to himself.

My heart tripped. “Familiar?” I whispered.

He looked at me, something real in his eyes. “Like I have done this before. With someone. It’s so close, but…” He shook his head, annoyed, like the memory was slipping away.

The air felt heavy. Years ago, in another place, we’d stood like this his arm around me, his voice promising forever.

My throat hurt. My chest tightened.

“Maybe it’ll come back,” I said, voice shaky.

His eyes held mine, digging deep, and for one second, I thought he saw me. The real me. Elsie not Anita.

“Mr Grey.”

Then the manager called his name, and the moment broke like glass.

“Dinner is on the next floor” he paused “if you don’t mind of course.”

---

Dinner was all lanterns and noise, the terrace glowing against the sea’s dark pulse. The dining room with a large ceiling-to-ground window giving an overview of Athens at night. There were different types of food spread out on the large table, from Italian dishes to Spanish and many other varieties.

The investors were loud, their voices mixing with the wind, their glasses clinking as the sunset turned pink. Liam was in work mode, funny, smart, spinning plans that had them leaning in, hooked. He was the center of it all, and they couldn’t look away.

But I saw the truth. A slight shake when he picked up his wineglass. The shadow in his face when things got quiet. And sometimes, his eyes found me, staying too long, making my heart race.

I sat quietly at the edge of the table sipping slowly on my margarita, my steaks had long gone cold.

“A penny for your thoughts my lady.”

Looking up there was a tall guy probably in his early thirties casually dressed standing just in front of me. I didn’t notice him at the meeting earlier.

“May I?” He asked, pointing towards the chair beside me.

“Yes, sure,” I replied.

Subconsciously I turned around looking for Liam. He stood at the far corner of the dining room talking to some elderly men.

‘He doesn’t care El,’ I reminded myself.

Just then a voice interrupted my thought.

“I guess you don’t talk much,” Mr. Strange questioned, his left hand rummaging through his blonde hair.

“Not really, probably just tired,” I muttered, flashing him my apologetic smile.

“Wrong timing then, my name is Michael,” he introduced.

“I am Anita Marshals,” I replied.

“Liam’s assistant I see,” he muttered softly.

“Yes, you are right,” I said, finally taking a bite from my steak.

“I hope to see you around my lady,” he said before heading off to join a group of men.

When the night slowed, we walked to our rooms, the hallway quiet except for the calm sea breeze outside. Our doors were side by side, close enough that I could almost feel him through the wall. He stopped at his door, turning to me, his face soft in the dim light.

“You were great today,” he said, voice low and warm. “I need you more than I thought.”

“I barely did anything, just my job,” I defended “You were the star of the night as always.”

The air got thick, full of things we couldn’t say. For a moment, we weren’t boss and assistant. We were Liam and Elsie, two people tied together by something neither of us could name. His eyes were open, raw, and then, so quiet it broke me, he said, “Your voice… it feels like home.”

My breath stopped, sharp like a knife. I wanted to grab him, tell him everything: our promises, our love, the life he didn’t know. But before I could, he turned, his door shutting soft as a breath.

And with that, he turned towards his door.

---

Sleep wouldn’t come that night. I tossed in cool sheets, the sea’s hum slipping through the balcony doors, Liam’s words stuck in my head: *Your voice feels like home.* I wanted to hold onto them, but they slipped away like water.

At midnight, my phone buzzed, cutting through the dark. I grabbed it, thinking it was Aunt Natty with more clues or Tara with gossip. But the number was blocked. One message glowed, cold and hard:

**Stay away from Liam or you’ll end up like your mom.**

The phone slipped from my hand, hitting the nightstand. My mom went too soon, her death a puzzle that never fit. Now someone was linking her to Liam, to me, like a threat closing in. My blood went cold, my heart pounding loud in my ears.

Clarisse's words from the office confrontation rang continuously in my ears.

But this couldn’t be her, she is too busy with her career for this.

I sat on the bed, shaking, staring at the words. Outside, the sea kept roaring, not caring. Liam was just a wall away, his voice calling me home hours ago. And someone out there wanted me gone for it.